


I'll Be Home

by entrenched



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shop AU for like a minute, Cuddling, Multi, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entrenched/pseuds/entrenched
Summary: When Ingrid is called back home for the holidays, she leaves two idiots to freeze in their run-down dormitory full of dirty clothes and baggage.[College AU Sylvixgrid]
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	I'll Be Home

**Author's Note:**

> For Nana on the 3H discord server: Have a happy holiday and best wishes into the new year!

_Can’t wait to see you this weekend! I have someone I’d like you to meet._

_—_

“I am _not_ cuddling with you. And can you please get your boxers off the couch?” 

In Sylvain’s defense, the heater was out. It was not an uncommon occurrence in Felix’s apartment, but certainly an unwelcome one in the dead of winter. While the Garreg Mach University was going through its much needed renovations, Felix’s side of the Blue Lion annex had not yet been touched by that sweet, sweet renovation money.

So cuddling was, depending on the day, a completely valid offer, especially as a struggling graduate student out of a job for the holiday.

“Fine,” Sylvain pouted as he folded his striped boxers and placed it on top of his F.B.I. (Female Body Inspector) souvenir shirt. “By the way, thanks for letting me crash here.” 

“You are not _crashing,_ ” Felix corrected as he poured himself a cup of coffee that he now wished was wine. “You crash for a night you forget you keys, not for the entire holiday.”

“You know you like it.”

“At least have the decency to do something around here. Cook breakfast or whatever.”

“You really want to try my cooking?”

“Actually no,” Felix sighed. “Go downstairs and buy me a sandwich. Otherwise, we’re just going to freeze and starve.”

“That sounds like fun,” said a sweet voice from behind the couch. Ingrid, who had just walked through the door, unraveled her scarf and draped it over the kitchen counter. She dropped a bag of what smelled and felt like warm – emphasis on warm – pastries on Sylvain’s stomach.

“What are we going to do without you, Ingrid?” Sylvain cried happily, already halfway through a blueberry muffin.

“Real work?” Felix offered as he poured a cup of coffee for Ingrid. “Two sugars?”

“Yes, thank you,” Ingrid said with a smile. “Also, thanks so much for taking my shift downstairs, Sylvain. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t encourage him.”

“No problem,” Sylvain said through a mouthful of lemon-poppyseed scones. He took a hard swallow and wiped his mouth unceremoniously with the corner of one of Felix’s couch cushions. “I needed the money anyway.” 

“If you have money, then go back to your own apartment.”

“No way!” Sylvain decided as he finished his scone. “Why the last-minute trip anyway? Didn’t want to hang with the only losers left on campus this winter?”

“No,” Ingrid began with a smile. She took a seat beside Sylvain, brows crumpling in disgust at Sylvain’s souvenir shirt and nightwear on the arm of the sofa. “Seriously though, my dad left me a voice message while I was on shift. He said… he said he wanted to see me. And have me meet somebody.”

“Your dad still doing that stuff?” Sylvain sighed in a rare show of seriousness.

“I know, I know.” Ingrid said as she shuffled her feet on the unvacuumed carpet. “It’s just… he’s my dad, you know. And he a bit excited, so I kind of have to go.” 

“Well if you have to go, then I guess I’ll just watch this guy til you get back.” Felix planted himself at the foot on the sofa, setting his coffee mug on whatever spaces were free on his center table. The table was a horrifying mix of charging cables, old mail, and a bountiful curse jar which Sylvain implemented not long after he began his residence on Felix’s sofa. 

“I don’t see why the cafe owners downstairs are so adamant to keep The Lion’s Den open over the winter,” Ingrid said into her mug of coffee. “It’s a no-man’s land. However, I can teach you some basics about running the cafe and the menu, if that would be helpful before I go.” 

“Nah, I got it covered.”

“You don’t know anything about being a barista,” Felix laughed at Sylvain’s empty bravado.

“How hard can it be?”

“Hey!”

—

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me with that guy.”

Felix leaned on the marble-topped cafe table. Sylvain had just left to go upstairs to the apartment for a change of clothes. To nobody’s surprise except Sylvain's, being a barista was _not_ easy. To think so was punishable by the soiling of a perfectly good plaid shirt that will probably smell like Blue Mountain coffee until the day he died. Ingrid wiped down the counter in defeat and with small hopes that nobody came into the cafe in her absence.

She could not afford the embarrassment of her proxy sending anybody to the hospital.

“I don’t know why you have to make it sound like you hate it so much, all things cons–”

“We don’t.” Felix inserted stiffly. “We don’t bring that stuff up… or I don’t. I _won’t_.” 

“You know he doesn’t do anything to hurt you,” Ingrid said as she continued to polish an already clean mug with her dish towel. “He’s always been like that. Flirty, I mean.”

“I know.” Felix muttered as he buried his head in his arms. In an even lower whisper, he said, “That’s the problem.” 

“I'm just saying maybe he'd stop if you told him how you felt. Maybe you can use this time you have together to–”

“What? Talk about how he flirts with everything that moves? Talk about how I’d rather stop moving if it meant he wouldn’t include me in it? I’d rather not.”

“Well, can you at least make sure he gets up every morning to open up?” Ingrid said in defeat. Felix always had a way with avoiding the elephants in every room. “If you don’t talk about your feelings, at least talk about that. And I’ll be back to save you before you know it.”

“Deal.” Felix said after a long pause. “But if that guy tries his terrible pickup lines on some girl he’s making a macchiato for, I’m done and he’s sleeping by the dumpster on the corner.” 

—

Ingrid pulled a day bag from her closet and set it on her bed beside her. On the floor, Sylvain laid on his stomach to watch her pack, as he had just been kicked out of the apartment momentarily for being what Felix described to Ingrid as insufferable. “Can you hand me a dress or two? Something nice,” she added as Sylvain shuffled toward her clothes drawer.

“How about blue?”

“Sure, but give me the one without the ribbon. I always hated that ribbon dress.” 

Sylvain tossed a casual royal blue dress to Ingrid. She folded it and fashioned it neatly beside a small makeup bag. Instinctively, Ingrid grabbed her large wooden brush to put in her bag. 

“I keep forgetting I don’t need this,” Ingrid said as she rummaged for a comparatively smaller comb. “Still getting used to this cut, but I really do like it.” Ingrid smiled softly as she recalled a week prior, the day she chose to cut off years and years of hair – the first adult decision she felt she had made since she left home for college.

“I like it too.”

“By the way, thanks again for helping me out with the cafe and everything. I know I keep hassling you, but you learned a lot in a short period. You’ll be fine.” 

“Thanks.”

“I feel really bad though,” Ingrid said with a frown. “It’s the holidays and your family will miss you.”

“My _parents_ will miss me,” Sylvain corrected bitterly. It was still a sore spot for Sylvain just how distant Miklan had become once Sylvain was officially deemed the golden child among them. “He still lives in our hometown. My brother, I mean. Maybe my absence will make my parents so lonely they’ll reach out to him.”

“Look at you,” Ingrid said as she nudged Sylvain with her foot. “Why can’t you use some of that sincerity with everyone else?” 

“They’re family… they’re different.” 

Normally, Ingrid would say something to ease the tension among them, but at that moment, she digressed. She took a place beside him on the floor and nudged her head slightly into his shoulder. It was so rare for Sylvain to talk about anything meaningful nowadays that perhaps it was her sick way of reminding herself that one of her best friends was indeed human and that a little tension was good.

—

“Now we have the place all to ourselves,” Sylvain proclaimed as he rolled over on the sofa. He had just returned from escorting Ingrid to the bus station and proceeded to make himself comfortable after the long walk.

“I’ve always had this place to myself,” Felix groaned as he sat beside Sylvain. The sofa, it turned out, was both too big and too small for the two of them. 

“Don’t deny it, you like that I’m here.” A silence fell among them, dramatically shifting the mood in the room. “You didn’t want to go home either?”

“No.”

“Oh… do you want to t–”

“No.” 

It was not recent – Glenn’s passing. But you would not have known it by the atmosphere at the Fraldarius household. Even after years, his belongings remained unmoved and untouched. It made sense for a while, but Felix’s irritation at the stagnant air of the house only solidified his decision to take advantage of any and every opportunity to stay far away. Sometimes he wondered whether he was running from seeing his parents –always silently disappointed they weren’t staring at Glenn at the doorway, or running from some grief he never got to process completely.

In the end, it didn’t matter. 

Small creature comforts now meant the world to him, whether he admitted it or not. Even if they came in the form of sharing a shabby apartment with his flirty best friend in the dead of winter.

At least he was not alone.

“Look, I know I don’t say this much, but–” 

_I’m happy you’re here._

Someone vicious was playing God as Felix felt a strange vibration between them on the couch. “You asshole, I told you not to bring those dirty toys in–”

“I didn’t, I swear!” Sylvain laughed nervously, taking mental stock of the things he did bring to the apartment. He was _pretty_ sure his duffel was rated PG13 at the very worst. “Wait, I think it’s my phone. It’s probably buried somewhere here.”

After a good ten minutes – five minutes of searching and an additional five minute lecture from Felix about how he needed to clean up if he were to stay any longer, Sylvain fished his phone from the seat cushion, along with a long-since-believed-to-be-lost USB drive which stored one of the duo’s worst hours: an organic chemistry rap video.

“Ugh, it went to voicemail,” Sylvain groaned as he listened to the message. 

—

_Hey, I just… I don’t know anymore. Sorry I called. Bye._

—

It had been a long time since Ingrid had felt so empty. It was stupid and she knew it. She walked mechanically through the snowy street toward The Lion’s Den. As she arrived at the shopfront, she realized most of the lights were down and the sign had been turned to _Be Back in 10 Minutes._ She burst through the door to find a bewildered Felix seated alone at the counter.

“What are you doing here?” they cried in unison.

“What do you mean? Where’s Sylvain? And why’s the shop closed?” Ingrid asked, flipping the lights on.

“Who cares about the shop?” Felix grunted as he ushered Ingrid into a booth seat. “Sylvain was going to take a bus to see you. He said he got this voicemail from you and that you were crying or something and just raced to the bus station like a crazy person. He forgot his wallet too, so he’ll be back soon. That guy’s only got enough in his pocket for a soda.”

Speaking of the devil, Sylvain pushed the doors to The Den open not a moment sooner and threw his arms around Ingrid and Felix. “I’m so tired,” he breathed. Unsure whether to laugh or cry, Ingrid opted to cry. Small beads of tears formed as her face crumpled in gratitude.

“You’re so dumb,” Ingrid cried into Sylvain’s shirt. “You didn’t have to go chasing me.” 

“Should have at least brought your wallet.” 

In their discomfort, the trio made their way back up to Felix’s freezing apartment, leaving the shop perpetually at its ten minute break and abandoning the cafe completely. There were more important conversations to be had. The three of them shed their outerwear and huddled together on the much-too-small-for-three-people sofa. They were not seated in the most comfortable position, but they were certainly warm.

“What happened anyway?” Felix asked as he placed a makeshift blanket of hoodies over Ingrid.

“Dad…” Ingrid sniffed. “I was on the bus and he said… he said the guy I was supposed to meet called off the meeting… I guess my dad showed him an old picture when he agreed to meet me, but the guy did some digging and found that photo we took from a few days ago from that winter carnival thing down the street.”

“And?”

“Dad hesitated, but… he… he told me that guy can’t get behind dating a girl with an ugly butch bob. So he called it off. I know I shouldn't care and Dad means well, but I don't know. It kind of hurts and I don't...” 

“Your dad always did have shitty taste.” 

“I know,” Ingrid sighed as she huddled closer to the two boys around her. 

“Only we’re allowed to call you ugly.”

“I hate you guys.”

“Love you too.” 

That night, Sylvain, Ingrid, and Felix found themselves strangely cozy in the frigid apartment. Cocooned by a mass of unwashed hoodies and basketball shorts, they slept together on the old sofa. Even the lightest of sleepers among them continued to sleep through the night, perhaps comforted by the knowledge that despite everything, some power wanted to assure them that they would not be alone for the holidays.


End file.
